


Going To Las Vegas

by gammacorvi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Without a Trace
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-16
Updated: 2005-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammacorvi/pseuds/gammacorvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Las Vegas anything can happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going To Las Vegas

"Vivian, I need you to accompany me on a trip to Las Vegas."

Vivian looks up, surprised. Jack is leaning on the partition that separates her desk from the rest of the bullpen. He looks distracted, as if his mind is already on the road. He sends her a short glance and a nod and is already turning around before she can recover.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. What is this all about?"

Jack stops abruptly, back still turned to her, shoulders slumping ever so slightly in annoyance. He turns around again.

Vivien holds up her hands in surrender.

"I'll do anything for you, Jack. You know that. And I'll even do it most of the times when you don't explain yourself…"

Now he is starting to frown.

"…But do you want to go, like, right now?" she adds, raising her eyebrows.

Jack is taken aback. Vivian had given him a hard time when he did not move to Chicago with his family, staying in New York and taking back the job that should have been hers. He reckons he deserved it, but it still makes him feel unsure about the state of their friendship. He has been treating her with silk gloves ever since. Then he realizes she is looking at him with affection.

He relaxes and smiles a very rare smile. Vivien has not seen him smile in maybe a year, maybe even two. But he seems better lately.

"You know, Jack, Reggie is celebrating his birthday today. We're having a little party this evening and considering the state of affairs," she indicates the clean-scrubbed white board, "I might even be home early."

Jack sighs in defeat.

"I was planning to go this afternoon," he admits. "I want to do it now, since things are so slow around here."

"Is it about Karen Connors?"

He nods and sits down, resting his arms on the desk, looking at her.

"She may be living with a family in Las Vegas. There's a girl matching the description and the circumstances fit. I want to check it out."

"Why don't you talk to the local field office?"

But she knows this is one of the cases where he will only trust himself and his own instincts.

"I need to do this myself. My source tells me the family has a history of abuse. If that child is Karen, hell, if it's any child that doesn't belong there… She's got no one who really cares, Vivian."

"I know."

They all have cases that stay with them.

Chet Collins, the father of Sean Collins, who disappeared at the age of two on a camping trip, came in for five years, talking to Jack, asking him to check out various leads. That one had turned out all right. Sean has been home for two years. But Karen Connors is a totally different case. Although she has a big family, none of them really seem to care the way Sean's father did. Her mother is in over her head with six other children, the father grudgingly admits that he does not really mind having one less mouth to feed, and grandparents, uncles and aunts are entirely caught up in their own lives.

Karen Connors, a quiet, unassuming, overlooked four year old does not count for anything. Once the case went cold the family never called once.

Jack keeps the file in his desk, looking at it every couple of months for the past four years, looking at the photo of a pretty blonde child who stares unsmilingly into the camera. All her siblings are beautiful children, but they all have that same unsmiling, stern look. Children's Services has had to find foster homes for three of them since Karen disappeared. The father not only beats his wife, but also his children when he is drunk. A very sad story.

Vivian leans back in her chair.

"Okay," she says, "So why don't you take Samantha with you? She was just as involved in the case as you were."

She feels Jack's reluctance. His relationship with Sam has been strained over the past year, ever since Jack didn't go to Chicago, and Sam and Martin became lovers.

Vivian sighs inwardly. She remembers only too well how Jack and Sam were together, even in the aftermath of their affair – the smiles in their eyes when they looked at each other, the mutual trust, the love still being there in plain sight for a good observer like herself. Yeah, she thinks it was love, she is pretty sure of it and part of her is furious with Jack because she feels he has been letting Sam down. On the other side she respects his decision to stay with his wife. But all that is history now, the affair, the marriage and whatever was left between Jack and Sam. When they look at each other now there are only lots of unanswered questions. Jack has tried to open up to her again lately but Sam regularly brushes him off when he is trying to talk about anything else than work

"I don't know," he says now, "I'm not sure she…"

"Come on Jack, she is really the only one available. She won't mind."

\--

Jack finds Samantha on the balcony. She is staring out at the city.

"Hey," he says.

He has felt awkward around her since her abduction by drug dealers while being undercover on a case a couple of months ago. She got beaten up badly and was nearly killed. Jack knows it is his fault, but for the life of him, he can't even remember if he told her that he is sorry. In the last couple of weeks he has felt like a man slowly waking from a dream or maybe like someone on the verge of drowning, discovering that he can swim after all. He looks back over the past year and is astonished at how miserable he has been.

"Hey," she answers, her eyes glancing at him for a second and then focusing again on the city around and below them. She has done that a lot lately, always just _not_ looking at him. He can never catch her eyes and catching her eyes was the one thing that got him through so many days. He suspects that she is angry but he is not sure for what.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" She looks surprised.

"For not pulling you out in time. I should have insisted."

"Jack, what the hell are you talking about?"

"When you went undercover…"

"Oh my God, that was ages ago. Now you tell me you're sorry?"

He doesn't know how to reply.

With a softer voice she continues:

"I don't blame anyone but myself. There's no need for you to be sorry. If it had been up to you, I would never have gone undercover in the first place."

"It was up to me."

"Well…" Sam glances over at him. He is leaning on the railing. His hair is very short. She likes it that way. It makes him look handsome. She wants to touch the curve of his head, trail her hand along his neck but she quells the desire and looks away. She remembers clearly that he didn't pull her out in time because she insisted to stay under, telling him that if they didn't have a history, he would not have a problem. That was pure blackmail and she is not proud of it, especially because she knows how completely he fell for it. But she also remembers his frosty and unkind reaction when she phoned him on the last morning to tell him she had been contacted by a middle-man the night before. He was mad at her for not having informed him sooner and she still does not understand why he so adamantly insisted on protocol.

She does not know that he was sick with fear that something might happen to her.

"You could have visited me at the hospital."

He looks astonished.

"You were there only a couple of hours."

"I was there overnight."

"Martin went with you."

"That doesn't mean you couldn't have visited."

A wave of strong emotion washes over him. The feeling of relief when they found her alive had been covered by a mountain of guilt, burying him. He had assumed that she, naturally, did not want to see him.

Her fingers are curled around the railing and she appears to want to rip it off

"You didn't come out here to talk to me about those old stories."

"No…umh… so how are you and Martin?"

"Jack!"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you…"

She stops when she sees that he has no idea what she is talking about.

"What bubble have you been living in? I thought it was common knowledge by now."

He looks at her, his face a blank.

"We broke up. A month ago." she explains. "Well, actually, he broke up with me," she adds, smiling sadly.

Jack is stunned. He does not know what to say. Various responses are drifting through his head but nothing seems appropriate. 'Nobody tells me anything around here' lingers on his tongue. He knows how pathetic that will sound and keeps quiet.

Sam finally breaks the silence:

"Was there something in particular you wanted?"

He recovers slowly. The prospect of going with her to Las Vegas without having Martin's presence looming in his mind seems suddenly very attractive.

"Yes…umh…I want you to go with me to Las Vegas."

"Oh," she says, "Is it Karen Connors?"

"Yeah."

"You think you've got something?"

"We have to find out. I'll fill you in on the way."

\--

In Las Vegas they hardly notice the bright lights and the bustle around them.

Jack's source is a woman named Alison Harford. She worked for Children's Services in New York and knew the Connors family well. She got to know Jack when Karen went missing. Now they are sitting in her office which is situated in downtown Las Vegas, squeezed in between a casino and a hotel. Sam thinks it's a strange setting, but that is probably how things are here in Vegas, glamour and squalor all intermingled.

"You wouldn't believe how many cases I have to look at," Alison says, her gaze fixed on Jack. "It's almost as bad as New York. Of course it's a slightly different clientele. Lots of people with severe gambling problems. There was that woman last month whose children were starving because she couldn't be dragged away from the gambling machines."

Jack and Alison have been catching up for at least ten minutes now, chatting comfortably like old friends. Sam's gaze wanders through the small office. Alison seems to be an interesting woman who likes to travel. There are small souvenirs from all around the world on display, tasteful stuff, not the sort of things you can buy in souvenir shops. Sam has learned that she has three grown daughters and one grandchild, although she can be no older than Jack. There are photos of all of them on her desk. She is actually an attractive woman, slim and lively – and divorced. That bothers Sam. She can see how comfortable Jack is around her and that makes her feel threatened in an odd way. And it makes her feel sad. She pushes those feelings away. There is no sense in lingering on the past. The world has moved on.

"So, Jack, how's your family?" Alison asks.

Sam feels Jack going tense beside her.

"They're fine. I think. My wife and daughters are living in Chicago now. We got a divorce," he says.

"Sorry to hear that," Alison says. Sam is sure she sees a hopeful spark light up in the woman's eyes. Jack lowers his head and looks at his hands, not noticing. 

There is a short silence. Alison opens a file and takes out a photograph, pushing it over the desk toward Jack. He takes it and holds it so Sam can have a good look, too. After a few seconds they glance at each other.

"Right," Jack says, giving the photo back to Alison. "It certainly looks like her."

"We got involved after a doctor in the Mountain View's emergency room called us. The girl, her name is Betty Wigand, was admitted with a broken arm and bruises. The parents said she fell off while climbing a tree in the back-yard. The doctor remembered he had seen the mother before and when he checked the old files he discovered that she had been admitted four times between 1998 and 2000 – bruises, new and old, two fractured ribs, a fractured wrist, that sort of stuff. She always had a story ready and couldn't be convinced to talk to the police although it was quite obvious that her husband beat her. After that I took a good look at the family. Especially after I discovered how much Betty looks like Karen. They were not very cooperative. Resisted me all the way. I found out that Betty was adopted four years ago, closed adoption. When I looked at the records I discovered that both her parents were dead and that her aunt had custody and gave her up for adoption. Apparently she's a drug addict and raising a child got too much for her."

Alison pushes the file over the desk.

"It _looks_ legal, but I know there are plenty of ways to make it appear that way. I thought you should check it out. I hope I haven't made a mistake."

Jack shakes his head, opening the file.

"Not at all," Sam says, "The resemblance is very strong. It's well worth checking out. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Jack reads out an address. Sam looks at her watch. It's 8 o'clock in the evening.

"Might be a good time," she says.

"Thank you for your help, Alison. We'll keep you posted." Jack stands up, sending Alison Harford a smile that makes Sam's heart constrict painfully. She has gotten far too accustomed to a Jack who is so exclusively focused on his work that nothing else exists. She thinks back and realizes that he has seemed more open to the world lately. He will probably begin dating again one of these days. It's only natural. He is an attractive man.

Sam does not fail to notice the way Alison touches Jack's arm on the way out. It looks possessive. Jack doesn't seem to mind.

\--

Sam stops the car at the curb. Jack is studying the file beside her, occasionally reading out snippets of information that are important for her to know. If it was Vivian sitting beside him he would comment on it to make sure she was making the same assumptions. That is not necessary with Sam. He will only have to tell her if he has a thought that is unusual or goes off in a new direction. Usually, though, she would already have a similar notion. Working with her is so smooth that he can concentrate fully on the task at hand, not even aware that to others their professional communication would seem based on seventy percent telepathy. But today he notices and takes a deep pleasure in not having to explain himself, in feeling her presence at his side that is, to him, steady as a rock and sparkling inspiration at the same time. Jack can tell exactly what she is thinking about the case they are on at any given time, but if anyone would ask him what Sam is thinking about himself he would be at a total loss. Telepathy only goes so far.

They get out of the car. They Wigand's home is small but well-tended. Dusk is coming and Sam pulls off her sunglasses.

"Alison Harford is an interesting woman," she says.

Jack looks at her.

"Yeah, she is," he confirms, feeling puzzled about the remark. He climbs the steps to the porch, knocking on the front door.

"She seemed to like you." The words just fall out of Sam's mouth and in the same instance she wishes she could take them back. But Jack grins at her.

"People do, you know," he says.

"It's a mystery to me." She smiles at him and her eyes touch his for more than a second for the first time in months. Jack feels a piercing in his heart. When he is alone in his hotel room later it occurs to him that it might have been that little fellow with the bow and the arrow. The feeling is not unpleasant but Jack finds it hard to recover. It might have to do with being shot twice in the same place. He will lie awake until dawn.

The door is opened by a plain woman in her late thirties. She looks scared when Jack pulls his badge. She calls for her husband, her voice shaking. Jim Wigand appears, a big man with scars around his right eye and a worried look on his face.

"Look," he says defensively, "We've done nothing wrong, so what do _you_ guys want?"

\--

Jim Wigand works security for one of the big casinos. He sits on the sofa in a cluttered but comfortable living room looking like a trapped animal. His wife sits beside him wringing her hands. She has just taken the FBI Agents through every step of the adoption process, beginning with the realization in the spring of 1998 that Jim would not be able to father a child.

"We wanted a baby of course, but then the woman at the adoption agency showed us a picture of Betty and we just fell in love with her."

She looks at her husband for confirmation and he nods.

"You have no reason at all to question how legal that adoption was. You're only here because that idiot woman from Children's Services wants to make life miserable for us."

Sam takes a measure of comfort in hearing Jim Wigand call Alison Harford an idiot woman. She doesn't show it of course. Beside her she hears Jack's voice, low and with an edge to it:

"Maybe you want to explain to me how your daughter sustained her injuries?"

Jim Wigand looks Jack straight in the eyes. They regard each other for a long moment. His wife reaches over and takes hold of his hand. She looks like a lioness ready to fight for her cub. Finally Jim lowers his eyes.

"I never laid a hand on my daughter," he says.

"He didn't," his wife confirms.

Their eyes lock and she is squeezing his hand hard. Jack sees how Alicia Wigand looks at her husband and feels a painful stab. There is love in her gaze, acceptance and even pride. Not the eyes of a woman who covers up for her husband beating their daughter.

"I did beat my wife," Jim Wigand says in a rough voice, "I did that. But I've got it under control. I'm just lucky she didn't leave me."

"We were under a lot of stress for a couple of years. First we found out that we couldn't have any children, then Jim lost his job, my parents died leaving nothing but unpaid bills… But we're all better now. We've got our life under control and it's just not fair that you're digging into all that old dirt and say we don't care for our daughter. She is our whole life."

Her voice is fierce and there are tears in her eyes. Jim puts his arm around his wife. Jack does not need to look across at Sam to know she is thinking the same thing – there is nothing here. These people are telling the truth. And Jim is a lucky man. As plain as his wife looks, she's got the heart of a fighter. Now she looks at her man, smiling and Jack feels that painful stab again, because Maria, his ex-wife never looked at him that way, never gave him that mixture of trust and loyalty that says 'I believe in you'. He suddenly feels very low. He never laid a hand on his wife and kids. He never even came close to doing something like that and still this Jim Wigand who put his wife into hospital four times must be a better man than he is. His wife's eyes say so.

The stairs that lead to the first floor are creaking and a second later a pretty eight-year-old is standing in the door. The newest Harry Potter is pressed to her chest and she looks worried.

"You talk so loud, I can't concentrate," she says.

"You should be sleeping, little miss," Jim Wigand grumbles.

Instead of drawing back she seems to take his response as confirmation that everything is all right, comes and snuggles in between her parents. The resemblance between her and the picture of four-year-old Karen Connors is even stronger in real life but somehow Jack doubts that it is her. Even if it was, it seems this girl is in a good place. Her right lower arm is in a plaster cast that is painted and scribbled on with good wishes. She raises it so Jack and Sam can see more closely and smiles with pride.

"I'm the only one of my friends who ever broke anything," she says.

"Yeah, she's the envy of all the kids on the street, especially the boys," Jim says, ruffling her hair lightly, "I just hope she leaves it at that…"

\--

They leave the Wigand's house half an hour later. Sam carries Betty's toothbrush in a plastic evidence bag. They will have to do a DNA analysis just to be on the safe side.

"I'll talk to the field office in the morning and get the DNA charts from Karen Connors's parents send over. I 'm just afraid it will take them forever to do this. It won't range high on their priority-list," Sam says.

Jack holds out his hand and she gives him the bag.

"I know a guy here. Gil Grissom. He's the head of the CSI-lab. He can get it done for us in no time. Let's go there and ask."

They settle into the car and while Sam studies the street map, Jack sits enveloped in his own thoughts. After a couple of minutes Sam starts the motor and looks over at him.

"Are you okay?"

He is pale, staring off into the falling darkness.

"Jack?"

He turns to face her.

"How can a woman whose husband beat her still be so loyal?"

Sam shrugs her shoulders.

"Seems to me she understood why it happened and they worked it out. They seemed very much in love. Not that I really understand why she didn't leave him in the first place, but maybe in the long run she made the right decision for herself."

Jack doesn't answer. He remembers the feeling that Maria used to give him of not being able to do anything right. He remembers the casual remarks she would drop to their friends, to their families how he always worked late, was never at home, left her to do all the daily tasks although she was working full time, too, and a thousand other small pinpricks. She had been right of course, so right… He just wishes she hadn't told everyone. He especially wishes she hadn't told Bernard Scoggins. What her lawyer hit Jack with in the deposition had been secrets, things told in confidence, not to be shared.

Sam is pulling away from the curb. Her blonde hair catches the light of the streetlamps and the breath catches in Jack's throat. He shared things with Sam that he should only have shared with his wife. Maria could never forgive that, even if she would have been able to forgive all the other things he did to her.

Jack is not a man who feels easily sorry for himself. The guilt that he carries around prevents that. But in this moment, thinking back to the way Alicia Wigand looked at her husband he fervently wishes Maria had looked at him that way only once. Well, maybe he just missed it.

\--

They leave the toothbrush with Gil Grissom, who is more than happy to help once Jack tells him the story.

"Attractive man," Sam says when they drive back to the hotel.

Jack does not answer, but lying awake in the night those two words keep repeating themselves over and over again. He is still in love with Sam. He has not been able to stop that no matter how much he tried to fight for his marriage. He managed to force the feelings away but now it seems they are flooding back with a vengeance. They have actually been flooding back since he realized that Sam had started a relationship with Martin. On that day he resigned himself to finally having lost her. It had felt like a light going out. It had plunged him into one hell of a darkness. The thing is, now that Martin is gone from her private life she'll probably start dating again, soon. It's only natural. She is a desirable woman.

That thought makes any pretense of sleep take off altogether and he spends the rest of the night contemplating how he can prevent that from happening. He is not sure he will be able to live through it again.

\--

The next morning Jack's mood is so bad, Sam doubts she has ever seen him worse, and she has seen a lot. She takes one look at his hair and his lined face and decides to go really easy on him for the rest of the day.

They spend some time checking out hospital records and validating Betty Wigand's birth certificate. In the afternoon Gil Grissom calls and while Jack stays in the hotel to make phone-calls to Alison Harford and Vivian, Sam goes to pick up the results. She comes back an hour later, high color in her cheeks and still chuckling. Jack looks at her frowning.

"That friend of yours," she explains, "He seemed so formal in the start but he is really a lot of fun."

After a while she adds:

"And so charming!"

Jack practically rips the lab-results out of her hands. They confirm what they knew all along. Betty is really Betty and the adoption as legal as can be.

"Let's tell the Wigands," he says.

\--

Later Jack sits on the bed in his downtown hotel room. He is rubbing away at his face, looking tired and downcast.

Sam is pacing in front of him.

"It was a long shot," she tries to console him.

"Yeah, maybe, but I had to do it. I had to make sure. It could have been Karen, after all."

" _We_ had to make sure," she says, "I know. I'm not complaining."

"When does the flight leave?"

"Tomorrow, 8.30 a.m."

He looks at his watch.

They've got plenty of time for a good night's sleep. But he knows he will not be able to do any better than last night. There's a voice in his heart trying to tell him that Karen Connors is gone. He tries to shut it up, succeeding. There is always hope and he will not give up. But there is another voice nagging away at him that he will soon lose Sam forever if he is not able to reach out for her and that one will not leave him alone.

He feels the bed move beside him and stops rubbing his eyes, seeing that Sam has settled down at his side, sitting very close. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly out of breath. Sam sees it sticking up, raising her eyebrows. He smoothes it down again and a soft look comes to her eyes.

"Have you eaten?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

"Come on, then."

"I'm really not hungry."

"We haven't eaten all day!"

"Sam, please, just leave me alone."

He regrets his words as soon as they are spoken because of course he does not want to be left alone, least of all people by her. But she seems to know him well enough to read behind his words. She takes his hand.

"Come on," she says.

He tries to look at her but her gaze keeps slipping away. With a sigh he gets up. Even if he is not hungry, her company is better than sitting here alone.

There is a casino attached to the hotel. The entrance is in the lobby and while Jack walks right past it without noticing he suddenly feels a tug at his hand. Sam has stopped. He tries to remember if they have been holding hands all the way down from his room and feels shocked because it felt so natural, he hardly noticed. Sam lets go of his hand, color rising into her cheeks, avoiding his eyes.

"Don't tell me you're a gambler," he says.

"I'm not. But I like roulette and it is…oh…fifteen years since I've been here last."

"You've been in Vegas before?"

Her hair is loose and she twirls a strand around a finger her gaze fixed on the door that leads to the casino.

"I got married here."

"You did?" he asks, amused.

"Yeah. I was eighteen and my mother was screaming bloody murder because she thought we were far too young. So we thought we'd just go for it and have some fun along the way."

She sighs.

"She was right of course."

Without thinking she takes Jack's hand again, then realizes what she is doing, almost lets go, then thinking that will surely make him notice that something is wrong she pretends it's perfectly normal, holds on and drags him forward.

"Five minutes," she says, "I just want to have a look."

An hour later her face is flushed and she is looking very young while she protects her small pile of chips with both hands.

"What do you think?" she asks Jack who is standing behind her chair.

"Stop while the going is good?" he asks.

"That is advice for people who are playing it safe."

"So you're not?"

"Sometimes you have to take a risk. Put everything on one card. Win or lose. Pick a number, Jack!"

"I will not! I'm not going to be responsible for you losing $300."

"Come on."

Jack is not a gambler. He is not even a man easily making impulsive decisions. It's not that he is not capable of that, but he needs a damned good reason. If he would ask Sam about it, she would say, 'sure you are', remembering the man who out tricked Graham Spaulding and Rick Knowles, only to name a few people who let themselves be deceived by his complacent appearance. She would also remember how he sweet-talked his way into a bookstore she was held hostage in, almost dying from the blood-loss following a gun-shot to her leg. Jack Malone is no gambler, but if the stake is high enough, he can be.

"Come on," Sam says once more.

Jack puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Don't," he says.

"No, Jack," she almost moans.

"Please, Sam."

She holds her hands up in a gesture of surrender and pushes back her chair. The people around her utter sounds of regret.

"Sorry, guys," she says, "I have to do what the boss wants **."**

They cash in the chips and leave the hotel in search of a good restaurant.

Sam resists the temptation to take Jack's hand again. She suddenly feels closer to him than she has in a long time. She contemplates why he lost interest in her. During their affair she had been so sure he was in love with her, although he never said the words. But later, even after his wife left him, he had always held her at a distance. Sam understands that he had a lot to deal with but still doubts that there are deep feelings left for her. She notices he is still wearing his wedding band. Maybe he just can't let go of his wife.

Several wedding chapels line their way. Sam stops in front of one offering "Special Elvis Weddings", studying the display.

"Whatever that is," she mutters.

"Well, they offer traditional weddings, too," he points out.

"No, thank you. I had me one of those. It didn't work out so well."

"You never really told me what went wrong."

She looks at him smiling wryly.

"You know, I think what goes wrong in most marriages also went wrong in mine. It only did so a lot faster. You have been doing better. Took you twelve years."

"I'm not sure there is anything _better_ about that."

"Still."

"Did you love him?" he asks quietly.

She looks at him.

"Did you love Maria?"

He does not respond for some time. He notices that you can also have a helicopter wedding, whatever _that_ is. Finally he replies:

"I did."

She waits for him to continue but he doesn't go on.

"Well I thought I loved my guy, too. I just found out I was wrong. I've never been good at stuff like that. Falling in love, I mean."

He feels the warmth of good memories spread inside him. She was good at it with him. He had never in his life felt so loved. Now he wonders how deep that really went. Could she have deceived herself into loving him only to find out it was wrong after all? He exhales and it comes out sounding like a sigh.

Sam glances at him out of the corners of her eyes. She can see that he is suffering. He has been suffering for months. There is a part of her that wants to make that right. There is another part that doubts she is the right person for the job.

"It was different with you." Her voice is low.

Jack rubs his eyes. He is not sure he has heard her right. Not daring to look at her he notices that they actually offer Grand Canyon weddings. Now that would be something.

"What was different?" he asks.

She looks at him. His voice sounds so disgruntled that she doubts the wisdom in going on about this subject. She takes in his formal attire, the black suit and tie, the white shirt, the close-cropped salt and pepper hair, the worried expression on his face. His friend Gil was so different, dressed casually, easy-going. He was also, in a strange way, hard to grasp. She thinks he might be just as complicated as Jack once you get to know him.

A small sigh escapes her lips. As complicated as Jack is, after spending a few months in a relationship with Martin who is anything but, she knows that complicated or not she is never going to find someone else like him. In time she will probably fall in love with another guy, maybe even marry, but she will never really get rid of Jack, with his guilt and his passion and his… his…

'Oh my god,' she thinks, 'Oh my god, I'm still so much in love with him. How am I ever going to get over this?'

Jack is still waiting for an answer. The tense look on his face is intimidating and her courage to go on evaporates.

"Nothing," she says.

In that moment, seeing her draw back, Jack at last understands that this is his final call. He can agonize about the break-up of his marriage and about his feelings for Sam for another couple of years, but all that he will accomplish by doing so is losing her. What has he been waiting for? What, the hell, is he still waiting for? As much as he has hurt her and as much as he feels guilty for that and unworthy of her, she is still the one. There will be no one else. And he might not get another chance. He thinks of her sitting at the gambling-table, asking him to pick a number.

"Would you consider marrying again?" he asks.

She shrugs her shoulders.

"If the right guy comes along, why not?"

"Then marry _me_."

She laughs out loud and glances at his left hand.

"As soon as you take off that ring, I will."

He tries to pull the ring off, struggling for a moment but finally succeeding. He holds it up in front of her eyes. She looks at him. She is still amused.

"You shouldn't be joking about such things, Jack."

He takes her right hand and drops the ring into her outstretched palm.

"You figure out what to do with it."

Sam is stunned. She lifts her head to gaze into his eyes. Jack feels like drowning. It is a rather good feeling.

"I'm not joking."

His voice is shaking.

Sam continues to gaze into his eyes.

Yeah, now he is drowning for sure.

"Oh god, you are serious about this," she finally says. She looks down at the pavement. Jack's heart sinks.

"I don't know what to say, Jack. Why…I mean, why are you asking me? I mean, why are you asking me now…?"

He can only see her blonde head. She is still staring down. After a moment she lifts up her face and the expression in her eyes is fierce.

"You told me it was over. I believed you. So how can you ask me now, out of the blue, if I want to marry you? What is it you're saying?"

He looks stricken and suddenly she is mad at him.

"You told me it was over. You have kept your distance ever since. Now, please, Jack, tell me what's going on!"

He pulls together the rest of his courage. There is not much of that left. He would be entirely capable to rescue her out of a burning building or trade his life for hers, but explaining himself, that is another matter.

"I was lying," he whispers, looking into her blazing eyes, "I needed to give my marriage a chance, so I had to keep you at a distance. But it's not over and I don't want you to be with Martin or take up with anyone else."

He feels her hands on his arms. Confident that he has found the right words he leans closer. Her hands slip around his neck and he expects her to kiss him, but she is merely rubbing her cheek on his and although he wonders what appeal it might have for her to caress his stubbly, late-evening face his knees almost start to buckle. He wraps his arms around her, crushing her to him. Immediately she starts to pull away and he has to let her go, his arms falling to his sides.

She steps back, one hand still cupping his cheek.

"This is way too fast, Jack. You may have been building up to this for a while, but I have not. I realize you are still attracted to me, but marriage…I mean, are you even divorced yet?"

"Came through last week," he mumbles.

She turns back to the wedding chapel display.

"This is not just about attraction," he says, "I love you, Sam."

_Sometimes you have to take a risk. Put everything on one card. Win or lose._

She has spoken those words barely ten minutes before and she realizes she has to say yes. He just called out the number, now she has to place her bet. She wants to place her bet, all of it. This is what she has been waiting for. After all he is her knight in shining armor and he will always be, regardless of his bad moods, his haunted past, his guilt-riddled psyche and his habit to leave his wet towels in a heap on the bathroom floor

She turns back to him.

"So…?" she says.

The moment draws out between them.

"Sam." He sounds utterly helpless, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, yes."

"You're going to marry me?"

"Yes, I am. It's crazy, but yes, I am."

A beautiful boyish smile spreads across his face.

"You're sure?"

"I said yes, didn't I?"

"Then let's go inside," he says in an unsteady voice.

"This is probably a very bad idea."

"I'm sure it is."

"What is Vivian going to say?"

"Let's call her afterwards and find out."

"Okay."

He wraps his arms around her again. Now she is clinging to him. All thoughts have fled from his brain. He is happy in a way he has never been before.

\--

The minister sees a man and a woman enter. They look shell-shocked as if something just happened that they did not expect. The minister is not surprised. He has seen a little bit of everything over the years. They also look very much in love. It is radiating from them in waves.

"So, how can I help you people?" he asks and smiles.

"We need to marry," Jack says and almost cringes when he realizes his choice of words.

"Yes, sir, I can see that," the minister says politely, "Right now?"

"Yes, please," Samantha chirps.

The minister checks the book.

"I have an opening in an hour. Business is a little slow today. Would that be convenient for you?"

They nod in unison.

"Then I need the marriage license, please."

They look so crestfallen that he feels sorry for them.

"You need a marriage license. I cannot accommodate you without. But you're in luck that you chose this establishment."

He points out on the street.

"The Clark County Marriage Bureau is right across the street. Shouldn't take you more than fifteen minutes this time of day. Afterwards you pick the rings at the jewelers over there and then you come right back. We'll have everything ready for you. With such short notice I'm afraid you can only choose between Elvis and the traditional wedding. Which one shall it be?"

"Sam?"

"Oh, I think I'm going traditional after all."

"You sure you don't want Elvis?"

"Jack!" she says, mock annoyance in her voice.

"Just a thought."

"Traditional it is. I'll expect you back soon." The minister smiles at them. He sees them link their hands and take off hurriedly. These two are not the usual crowd. They look like cops or Federal Agents. Quite unusual. And they're both so eager to get this over with that they're practically running. Very often when people wander in here on impulse one of the partners seems to be pushing. But not those two. He smiles once more, to himself. Customers like that satisfy him deeply. He even thinks in these cases the marriage might hold. Now, _that_ is a good thought.

\--

Jack's heart is beating fast while they wait for the license. He prays that it will be ready before she changes her mind. He doesn't doubt that she is on the verge of doing just that. When he finally holds the piece of paper in his hands he is surprised that she still hasn't said anything.

Sam, on the other side is convinced that he will have second thoughts any _second_ now. She thinks that he is just not the kind of man for _this_ sort of impulsive decision. Of course, she does not yet know what amount of soul-searching led him here.

The clerk announces that they will have to pay $55 for the license. Jack offers him his credit card.

"I'm sorry, sir," the clerk says, "We don't accept credit cards."

Jack grows pale.

"Why not?"

"You should have checked our website, sir. I have to ask you for cash."

Jack looks at him in despair. He has no more than $10 left in his wallet. Then he feels Sam's comforting touch on his arm.

"I'm rich, sweetheart, remember? Thanks to you."

She pulls out her wallet, thinking that if Jack hadn't stopped her in the casino, she might have no cash left at all.

When they leave the Marriage Bureau Jack takes a deep breath and grins at her:

"God, that was scary."

She reaches up to him, kissing him on the mouth. He responds with delight. Backing down is the last thing on their minds. They grow oblivious of the world around them.

"Jesus, Emily, look at this…," a strange voice intrudes.

They break it off.

"Rings…" she hears Jack mumble.

A man wearing a g-string with a leopard design, high heeled shoes and nothing else passes on the sidewalk in front of them.

Sam giggles.

"That was obviously not meant for us!"

\--

They pick the rings with care. It takes them longer than planned. On their way back to the wedding chapel they pass a shop displaying summer dresses. Sam stops dead. Jack thinking she has finally changed her mind doesn't dare to look at her.

"Jack?"

"What is it?" he asks in a tightly controlled voice.

She sees his face and tenderly cups it in her hands, searching his eyes, reading his mind.

"I just thought it would be nice to actually marry in a dress. Last time it was jeans and t-shirt and I'm not sure I want to do it in my grey suit this time."

He caresses her neck, lost in her. He would say yes to anything she asks.

There may be several degrees of love. Loving Maria had certainly been one of them. Loving Sam had been another, more intense and more painful. Seeing her come out of the changing room now, wearing a simple but expensive looking dress which leaves her arms bare, clinging beautifully to her body, her hair flowing over her shoulders and realizing that in a very short time she will be his wife, the woman he sees at breakfast every morning and the one he will confide in, trusting her with his soul, Jack feels something swell in his heart that he has never felt before. And, to tell the truth his heart is not the only thing that is swelling.

She steps close to him.

"Do you like it?" she asks, laughter in her eyes because she is already very satisfied with his reaction.

"It's okay," he murmurs, tracing the line of her hips with his hand.

"This is the one, then," Sam says.

\--

The minister is waiting in the door when they get back to the chapel. He looks relieved:

"I was afraid you guys had chickened out," he says.

Half an hour later it is done.

"You may kiss the bride."

Jack plants a soft kiss on her lips. Sam is crying.

"Any regrets, sweetheart?" he asks with worry.

She grabs him at the lapels of his black suit, shaking him a little.

"I didn't think you loved me anymore."

"I didn't say I did."

"Oh, yes, you did. I heard you. Don't pretend otherwise!"

"Okay, I confess, I do love you. Completely. Please just love me back?"

Her hands slip upwards and around his neck.

"I never stopped. Not when you left your wife without telling me, not when you went back to her after…well…after…" She swallows hard with the memory. He can feel her hands caressing his neck.

"Not when you went to Chicago and not when you didn't leave after all. Not when I was with Martin. You think I would stop now?"

Now she looks at him the way he yearned for. He wonders how she can seem to see through to the deepest recesses of his soul and still love him and still believe in him. He hopes being married to him will not spoil that.

He buries his face in her neck.

The minister sees them leave. Yes, he thinks, very satisfying.

\--

Vivian gets a call at four o'clock on the morning. She gropes blindly for the receiver, holding it to her ear, expecting some sort of emergency.

"Vivian, hi, it's Jack" a familiar voice says.

Vivian frowns with worry.

"Jack, hi, what's wrong?"

"I got married."

"What? To whom?"

"Sam."

He is chuckling happily down the line and Vivian is instantly alarmed. She has known him for what – 15 years, give or take and he has never, ever in all that time sounded like that. She assumes that he has finally snapped. He is probably having a nervous breakdown in progress. With all the things he went through in the past years and considering that he takes _everything_ to heart, she is not surprised.

"Jack?" she says, hearing only a snort in return, "Is Samantha there?"

"Of course."

"Let me talk to her!" she demands.

"She wants to talk to you, sweetheart."

"I bet!"

Sam is on the phone.

"Hi, Vivian," she says. Her voice is happy like birdsong in the morning.

"Samantha, what is happening?"

"We got married." She laughs.

"You did _what_?"

"We got married," Sam explains patiently, "Jack proposed in front of one of those wedding chapels. I didn't have the heart to say no. Vivien, I know this must come as a shock, but we are really married."

Vivian doesn’t know what to say. She is at a complete loss of words. Her husband is stirring beside her. Strangely enough she feels as if a great weight has been lifted from her chest.

"Oh, Sam, I don't know what to say. I didn't see that coming. What happened?"

She hears Sam's voice, sounding concerned:

"Vivian? We are so happy."

"Me too, sweetie, me too, I'm just speechless. How is Jack doing?"

"Well, he's smiling. He's looking happy. He better be. Ahhh…he can't keep his hands off me. Sorry Vivian."

"It's okay, sweetie. You just keep him smiling. And listen to me… Any thoughts you might have of annulling the marriage in the morning come and talk to me first."

"Jack," she hears Sam's amused voice, "Vivian thinks we might want to annul this once we come to our senses."

"Tell her our senses have left and are never coming back. No, tell her it was the only thing making any sense –uh, am I making any sense here?"

Vivien hears the bed creak and a small shriek from Sam. She smiles. She has the feeling that everything will be all right

\--

Jack wakes in the dawn. He is happy and rested and those feelings are so unusual for a moment he wonders what happened. Then he feels Sam's warm body stirring beside him and a joy floods him so strongly that for a moment he can hardly breathe. He pulls her closer, drinking in her scent, her awakening body, her voice murmuring:

"Jack, sweetheart, good morning."

Total bliss.

\--

The steady sound of the plane's engines is making Jack drowsy. Sam watches him. His eyes are slipping shut again. He looks so completely relaxed. She cannot take her eyes of him. After a while he notices and grins.

"What are you looking at?"

"You. You are beautiful."

"That should be my line, and you must be mistaken, I'm certainly no beauty."

"To me you are."

\--

Vivian watches them enter the office. They walk a few feet apart but that does not help much. Danny notices instantly, leaning back in his chair, twiddling his pen in his fingers and raising his eyebrows:

"What happened to you guys? Won a million bucks?"

"No…" Sam answers, smiling brightly.

"So you found the girl?"

Danny is instantly sorry for asking. Both their faces cloud over.

"No," Jack says somberly, "That was a dead end."

He sits down at the conference table, trying to look as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. But his face gives him away. Danny is riveted. His boss is happy. That much is obvious. Jack is happy.

Vivian is trying to look busy with some papers she finished an hour ago.

Sam sits down across from Jack, shooting him a bright smile.

Danny comes over, leaning on the table looking at each of them in turn.

"Whatever it is, you better tell me now or you're going to be sorry. What happened…?"

 

THE END


End file.
